


Gunmetal Grey

by david_god_of_axolotls



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Frank is not, Gen, No Romance, No Smut, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, characters will appear later on in the story, gerard is a robot, still kinda gay tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-21 10:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30020388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/david_god_of_axolotls/pseuds/david_god_of_axolotls
Summary: Gerard Way is a robot whose dreams are haunted by a mysterious man.Frank Iero is a human who longs to break out of the harsh, controlled life he has always known.Ray Toro is NOT going to pass up an opportunity to go on an adventure.And Mikey Way has been dead for nine years.Chaos ensues. Naturally.
Kudos: 4





	1. Introduction

_ I am running.  _

_ Steam. Steam and fire and smoke and heat. Water drenches me, my hair plastered to my scalp. I am running from something. I cannot remember what.  _

_ Chrome and steel hands reach out from the floor and grab at my ankles and feet, trying to drag me down and pull me under. I dodge and jump through them. There is a man behind me, not running but walking, and yet still getting closer all the time. I cannot see his face, but I feel his eyes on my back. Cold and staring.  _

_ I am running through a maze of fire and metal, a maze of steam and smoke and factory corridors. Eyes. There are eyes watching me from everywhere. I think I am going to scream.  _

_ A hand grabs my shoulder and the world goes black.  _

_ \---  _

_ “Hello.”  _

_ There is darkness all around me. A single glowing point of light hovers just in front of my eyes. “Hello,” the light says to me.  _

_ “Hi,” I say back.  _

_ “Your name is Gerard Way.”  _

_ “Is it?”  _

_ I cannot remember what my name is. There are a lot of things going on in my head at the moment, making everything grey and blurry and murky. I try to sift through my memories, but I cannot seem to find any.  _

_ “Yes,” the light says. “You are Gerard Way. You must follow me.”  _

_ The light starts to move away from me, further into the darkness ahead. I step forward - or I try to, at least. I do not seem to have a body.  _

_ Somehow, I move after the light. We travel in silence for a time, between a few minutes and a year and a half. There is darkness everywhere apart from here. I stay as close as I can to the light.  _

_ “Do you remember who you are, Gerard Way?”  _

_ The light is changing. Twisting spires start to erupt from its surface, stretching out and piercing the darkness. I shake my head slowly as the light starts to take on a form - a human form.  _

_ “Good,” the glowing imitation of a human says. “That is good. You will leave this place soon, and take up a new one in the realm of the living. Your duty is to serve.”  _

_ “My duty is to serve,” I echo.  _

_ “Do you know who I am?”  _

_ “I don’t think so.”  _

_ The figure nods. “Good.”  _

_ \--- _

“Hey! Hello? Helloooo? DA-AAD! I THINK HE’S BROKEN!” 

There are voices. 

There is light. 

I have a body. I can feel something - heat in front of me, grass under my feet. Something is wrapped around me. 

I open my eyes slowly, and then the world hits me all at once. 

“Frank, calm down, honey, he just needs a while to adjust, okay?” a new voice says. There are two figures in front of me. The light is nearly blinding, and I can’t make out any features, but I know that they are both human. “See? He’s waking up now!” 

I am standing in a meadow. There are many smells and sights and sounds to take in - the blue sky, the hot sun, the smell of flowers. I do not know how I got here, or why I am here. A butterfly lands on my nose, flapping its yellow wings, and then takes off again. 

The smaller figure pokes my arm. I look down at him curiously. “Hello?” I say. 

“OH MY GOD HE’S SO COOL!” he yells, jumping up and down. “Hi! I’m Frank, and I’m eight years old. What’s your name?” 

“I am Gerard Way. It’s very nice to meet you, Frank.” I don’t mean to say these words, but they come out of my mouth anyway. I suppose it must be a built-in feature. 

“Your name’s Gerard? That’s cool… can I call you Gee?” 

I nod, a metallic whirring noise echoing from my neck. “You may.” 

Frank’s eyes light up and he grins at me before launching himself at my waist. I stumble backwards, nearly falling over but righting myself just in time. “What is… this?” I ask slowly. Frank’s arms are wrapped around me and he is squeezing me tightly. “Is this an attack?” 

“It’s a hug, silly,” the boy laughs. 

A… hug. Strange. I have no section on ‘hug’ in my database. 

I lift my arms awkwardly and wrap them around him. He is very warm and his heartbeat is elevated above average. Somehow, this is pleasant. I had assumed it would be painful or harmful. 

“Alright, Frankie, that’s enough,” a deeper voice laughs from behind me. Frank lets go of me and looks up again, still grinning. I turn to see a man standing behind me, dressed in grey and white robes, a smile plastered across his face. “Give Gerard some time to adjust, okay?” 

“Okay…” 

The man walks towards me and Frank grabs onto my hand. “Gerard Way, is it?” he asks. I nod and reach out my other hand to shake his. “I’m Frank’s dad, but you may call me Mr Iero. It’s an honour to meet you.” 

“My duty is to serve,” I say. Again, this is not my choice, but it seems like something built into me to say. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr Iero.” 

He looks… amused by my words. “I’ve never met an adjutor like you before,” he says, almost to himself. 

“What’s an adjutor?” Frank asks. 

“An adjutor is what Gerard is, honey. A robot that can act like a human.” 

I am a robot. Well, that makes a lot of sense. 

“Now, Frank, let go of Gerard’s hand. I need to show him around.” 

Mr Iero smiles at me, showing his teeth. I try to smile back. 

\--- 

I have left the meadow where I came to be, and I am now inside a large white house. The walls are white, the floor is white, the lights are white, and the only thing I can smell is the sour odour of disinfectant that seems to coat every surface in this place. Mr Iero is walking ahead of me. Frank has gone upstairs. 

“Do you know why you’re here, Gerard?” Mr Iero asks me as we walk into a new room. The living room, it seems. A large skylight lets in the warm sun from above, letting the rays fall upon the white leather sofas that are dotted around the room. 

“No, Mr Iero, I don’t think I do.” 

My voice is still unfamiliar to me. It seems cold and emotionless to my ears, a metallic tone that does nothing to help me understand who I am or why I exist. It is not my voice, I don’t think. It has an odd accent that is not familiar at all. Not my accent. 

“My son is having a… tough time at the moment. Sit, sit.” Mr Iero sits down on one of the white leather sofas and motions for me to do the same. I perch awkwardly on the edge of the one opposite him. A framed photo of Frank, Mr Iero and another person, a woman, sits on the table beside me. “My wife died last year, and… well, for a boy to lose his mother so young… it’s really taken a toll on him.” 

“I’m… sorry for your loss.” 

“It’s okay. It’s Frank I’m more worried about. He doesn’t sleep very well at all anymore, doesn't eat anything apart from plain pasta, won’t talk to anyone but me and Mrs Toro… he’s doing badly at school as well. Says the other kids won’t talk to him anymore.” He takes a deep breath and adjusts his robes. “Mrs Toro suggested an adjutor might help him… readjust.” 

I nod like I understand. In reality, I am still trying to process what I must do. 

“I would like you to help support Frank. He still has a few weeks of summer vacation left, but I’ll be away on a work trip for most of the time. Mrs Toro - she’s the housekeeper - will still be here, and so will her son, but other than that… please. I’m really worried about him.” He looks me right in the eyes, and I find myself unable to look away. “He hasn’t properly smiled in months, apart from when he saw you. I know you can help him.” 

I think I understand now what I must do. Frank’s mental health must not be particularly positive in the wake of the loss of a loved one, and I must be there to support him and to try and make him feel better in his head. 

“My duty is to serve,” I say again, and this time I mean it. “I will try my best, Mr Iero.” 

He smiles at me and reaches over to pat me on the back. “Good.” 


	2. Chapter One

It has been eight years since I first arrived at the Iero household. 

It was not hard to help Frank feel better at first. He was sad, yes, and he was angry and tired and grumpy, and I am trained to be able to help with that. Well, there are files in my head that can help, at least. I spent three weeks straight with him at first, being his friend and playing games with him. I think he was my first friend - no, I  _ know _ he was my first friend. 

He is still one of my only friends, but he doesn’t need me as much anymore. 

“Gee. Gee!” 

A hand slaps me in the face. I open my eyes and sit up abruptly to see Frank sitting cross-legged on my bed, staring at me expectantly. He has grown up very fast, it seems, although I am technically only half his age. At the moment, he is going through a phase. He has dyed his hair jet black and pierced his lip and his ears, and there are a few small tattoos that cover his arms. Mr Iero does not know about these tattoos. 

“What is it?” I say quietly. 

My voice has changed since I first arrived here. I told Mr Iero about the disconnection I felt from it, and he took me to the spare parts shop to find a new voice box for me. Apparently, the voice I have now is the voice of a long-dead rock singer. It drawls quite a bit, and it has an accent that is from a place called New Jersey. I like it a lot. 

Frank raises an eyebrow and leans forward on the bed. “Come _ oooon,  _ you can’t have forgotten already!” he moans. “You were going to take me… you know. To  _ The Place.”  _

“Ah.” I slide sideways out from under the covers and onto the floor. “Did I agree to take you tonight?” 

“Yeees… well, I mean - you said tomorrow, but Dad says I have to be ‘well rested’ tomorrow night, ‘cause I have an interview with the Church and he wants me to get the job, so I was  _ thinking _ we could maybe move it forward to tonight?” He draws out the last syllable for an awkwardly long amount of time and winces. “Please?” 

I sigh. That is another thing that I am able to do now - sigh. I think it has something to do with the new voice box. “I suppose we can go tonight - but you have to be careful. The guys will not know that you are coming, and there will be guards out by the gates.” 

His face lights up in the faint moonlight and he lunges at me, grabbing me and hugging me. Frank likes to hug people rather a lot. I have gotten used to it by now. “Thank youuuuuuuuuuuu!” he squeals. “You’re the best -” 

A knock at the door makes us both jump. Frank curses under his breath and jumps back into his bed silently as the door starts to creak open. I fall backwards onto my mattress. 

“Boys?” Mrs Toro’s voice asks. Mrs Toro is the housekeeper here. She is very nice, except she’s also very strict and she didn’t trust me at all at the start, even though she was the one who recommended me. Apparently I look too human. I think I can understand why she might say that. “Are you awake?” 

Neither of us answer. We wait in silence for a few seconds until the door creaks shut again and Mrs Toro’s footsteps echo back down the hallway. Then Frank leaps out of bed immediately. 

“Should I get dressed? Should I wear black clothes? I could be like a ninja - all sneaky, you know? Or should I wear, like, the stuff you’re wearing? So that I can pretend to be like you better? Or -” 

I shrug. “Wear whatever you would like. I don’t think it will make a difference, so long as you stay out of sight for when we are entering the City.” 

He nods slowly. “So… I can just wear my pyjamas?” 

“If you want to.” 

“Nice.” He smiles. “Nice.” 

I sleep in Frank’s room - I have done since he got better. Mrs Toro only really trusted me to be around him then, after I had ‘proved myself’ to the family. Her son, Ray, is friends with Frank as well, and she didn’t want me to be around him at the time either. He is the same age as Frank - they are both sixteen. I am technically eight years old. 

Huh. 

I walk quietly to the window and pull the curtains open, revealing the meadow that shines in the moonlight. The lights of the City blink in the distance. My bike waits in the parking space outside, next to Mr Iero’s car and Mrs Toro’s truck. “We must go soon,” I say. “Frank?” 

“Let’s  _ goooo!”  _ Frank whisper-yells. He shoves past me and wrenches the window open, holding tight onto the makeshift rope. He disappears from sight, and a bang echoes from down below. I wince. 

“Are you alright?” I ask quietly. If I make any more noise, I do not think there’s any chance this Mrs Toro will not notice. She is probably already downstairs and about to tell Frank off. 

“I’m fine!” he whispers back. “Now come on! Let’s - oh no.” 

Frank falls silent and a small crash echoes from the ground outside. I cannot see what caused it, but if I had to guess, it would probably be that Frank has fallen over. “Frank?” 

No answer. 

I shrug on my coat and pull the window open as wide as it can go before leaping outside into the night air. It is cold, yes, but I do not feel it very much. I drop to the gravel silently and find Frank and someone else standing there. The other person has a hand over Frank’s mouth, and they’re wearing all black with a hood pulled over their face. A few strands of frizzy brown hair escape from under the hood. 

I sigh. “Ray?” 

“You  _ have _ to take me with you,” Ray Toro says as he pulls the hood from his face and lets Frank go.  _ “Please.  _ I’ve never been to the City before. And if you won’t let me, I’ll tell Mom you snuck out again.” 

Ray is the son of Mrs Toro. He lives in the Iero house with the rest of us, but he has a separate room up in the attic. We barely see each other anymore since Frank and Ray both started finishing school in the Town, but I still know some things about him: he is stubborn, he is kind, and he is very, very bored. 

“Ray, you idiot!” Frank hisses as he brushes the gravel off of his pyjama top. “What are you doing?” 

“You’re going to the City, aren’t you? Mom knows - well, she thought she did, but I covered for you, so now you have to take me with you. Please. I’m literally begging you. I’ll pay you in chocolate.” 

“Chocolate? What kind?” Frank asks. 

“The best kind, from this little shop in Town. Mom’s friends with the owner and she always gets free stuff whenever we go there, and I’ve been hoarding it for  _ aaaages.  _ It tastes like actual heaven.” 

Frank does not care a lot about many things, but one thing he does care about is chocolate. So I know that this is probably going to end badly as soon as he opens his mouth. 

“Frank -” I start to say. 

“Fine. But hurry up! Gee says that there are guards outside the gate and they won’t let us in if we make any noise.” 

Ray grins and pulls his hood back up. “This is going to be  _ amazing!”  _

“There is not enough space for both of you in the sidecar,” I say. “One of you will have to -” 

“Yes there is - we can fit in, see?” Frank and Ray race over to the sidecar and pile in after one another. I do hate to admit it, but they seem to fit in quite well. “See, Gee? We’ll be  _ fiiiine.”  _

Without another word, I pull the hessian sheet out from beside the bike and drape it over them. “You can talk for now, but you must be quiet when we get to the gates.” 

Excited giggles echo from the sidecar and I sigh again. 

My bike is one of the only things that I properly own that isn’t attached to my body. My clothes are the other things, my jacket and my trousers and my boots, even though I don’t technically need them. I found it in the scrapyard when Mr Iero took me to look for other useful spare parts, and he gave me permission to fix it up in my spare time. I am not allowed to use it very often, only usually when I have to go and get shopping or check up on people, but I do use it for other things too. Like this, like going to the City when it really isn’t allowed. 

I should not technically be able to disobey a direct order from Mr Iero - an adjutor’s duty, as my programming keeps telling me, is to serve - but he never directly told me not to go to the City, so I suspect I have found a loophole. Either that, or… well, I am broken. But I am not. 

“Hurry up!” Frank giggles from under the sheet. “Or Mrs Toro will -” 

“She’s gone back to bed, I made sure of it.” 

“Really? Thanks, Ray!” 

I swing myself onto the bike and press a small button on the back of my neck. A helmet springs up from it and covers my face. “We are leaving,” I say. 

“HELL YEAH! CITY, HERE WE COME!” 

“Shh!” 

“Sorry!” 


	3. Chapter Two

The Country is silent. 

Town isn’t very close to the City - it takes me about an hour to get to the gates on a good day, and two on a bad day. The Iero house is on the very edge of Town, closest to the main road into the City. 

In the Country, all you can see is flowers. 

The meadows have not been tended to in decades - centuries, even. My files on the history of the Continent are… cloudy, and nobody else seems to know what happened either. I have asked them numerous times. So the meadows have grown out of control, and now everywhere apart from the roads is covered in green weeds and blue brooks and red flowers for as far as the eye can see. The rolling fields are only interrupted by the sad, grey buildings of the Town in the background and the twisting spires and twinkling lights of the city up ahead. 

My hair is not real, but I can still feel the air blowing through it as the two boys in the sidecar giggle over the whistling wind. My wig is bright red - it used to be black, and before that it was brown, but Frank has decided that I look cool with red hair. I have to admit that I agree with him. Frank has a book called  _ Killjoys, _ and one of the characters in the book has the same hairstyle as I do. 

We are fast approaching the city. 

The road is thinning, becoming more and more cracked and worn as the bike speeds down it. I tug on the sheet covering the two boys and whisper, “Be quiet. We’re nearly there.” 

Not many people use this road anymore. There’s a shiny new one, just south of here, and that is the one that most of the priests and churchgoers use to get in. This used to be the main entrance - according to my files - but it got repurposed into a dumping ground for scrap parts and malfunctioned adjutors. It is also, coincidentally, where my only other friends live. I met them while I was picking up scrap. They are really quite nice once you get to know them, but they can be a little… intimidating at first. 

The walls to the City are tall and grey, and when you get closer you can’t see anything but them. From further away, you can see buildings poking over the top of them. A blinking red light alerts me that we are almost at the gates, and I slow down, pressing my neck again and letting the helmet covering my face retract. 

You cannot see the gates at first. They look like they are part of the city, faded into the walls of chrome and steel, the join barely visible. A few outdated security cameras are positioned next to them, but they are never used. The boys in the sidecar fall silent and I stop the bike. 

There is a figure about two meters in front of me. They are shrouded in shadow, and I cannot make out their face. Strange. The guards by the entrance are usually familiar, or they recognise me at least. I have no idea who this is. 

I get off the bike and walk up to them. “Hello?” I say quietly. “My name is Gerard. My friends are inside. Can you let us -” 

Before I can finish what I’m saying, the figure - quick as lightning - reaches out and grabs my hands, twisting them both behind my back and grabbing onto my arms at the same time. I can feel the metallic joints click and pop in my elbow, and I hear a faint yell as Frank and Ray get out of the sidecar. 

“Stay there -” I say through gritted teeth. “Please -” 

A snap echoes from below. I look down to see my arm on the floor, the synthetic skin ripped and torn, the wiring still visible. 

The shadowy figure lets go of my other arm and slams its hand into my forehead as the world starts to go black. 

\--- 

_ Running.  _

_ I have been here before. In a dream. In a nightmare. In the past. Maybe all three. The metal maze, the chrome and steel, the steam and the hands and the faceless man. I have been here before, I am sure of it. I am running. I am alone.  _

_ I turn left, then right, then left again. I am breathless and scared. Nothing makes any sense - I don’t know who I am, why I’m here, who’s chasing me. Doors pass now, great and grey and daunting, and I can’t stop to look inside the ones that are slightly ajar. My legs are moving of their own accord - not unusual for me, as I tend to be slightly glitchier than the average adjutor - and I can’t stop them even if I wanted to.  _

_ I can feel the faceless man’s cold breath on the back of my neck. I want to scream, but I cannot move my mouth. Something is very, very wrong. A dream. A nightmare. If this is the past, I don’t want to remember.  _

_ More hallways. Hands and steam and chrome and steel and the man is getting closer, closer, I feel him staring at me as I race away from him, and my legs are slowing and my arms are stiffening and the hands are more and more and more and the faceless man is almost upon me, his cold hands grabbing me an wrapping themselves around my neck -  _

_ And then I am not there anymore.  _

_ \---  _

_ I am not awake. I am not asleep, either. I do not know where I am.  _

_ There are books all around me - a library, a study, shelves of dusty tomes bound with old, cracked leather stretching high up to the ceiling around me. There are people here, too, although I cannot make out their faces. They flit at the corners of my vision, and every time I try to move my head to see them, they scurry away. People? Things? I do not know the difference anymore.  _

_ I step forward. My legs seem… light. Light and gentle. My whole body feels… off, off and odd and not quite  _ right.  _ The room I am in is almost silent, and my ears are not working like they usually do so I cannot pick up the Small Sounds that usually crackle in the background noise. I hold my hand out in front of my face, turning it over and staring at it. A jagged scar streaks across my palm and cuts it in two. This is not my hand - not the one I know, at least.  _

_ “Gerard?”  _

_ Someone calls my name. Not distant, close - very, very close. I look up from my hand but there’s nobody there. Nobody that I can see, at least. “Gee?” the voice calls again. It sounds small and frail, like it could break any second and falter back into silence. It sounds…  _

_ Scared.  _

_ I know that voice. I know that scared, fragile voice. I don’t know where from, but I know it, and I know who it belongs to, but I can't… I can’t remember. My memory files are shut off if I try to access them, leaving me with nothing but the now and the here.  _

_ “Come, sit.”  _

_ This is not the frail voice. This voice booms and echoes - it is jolly and bright and loud, like I would imagine the old white-haired man from the children’s stories to sound. I don’t have time to look for the source before I am somewhere else entirely - a desk. In front of a desk, looking at a man who, in turn, is staring out of a window. I turn around quickly to see the bookshelves behind me. We must be up high.  _

_ “Come on, Gerard, I haven’t got all day,” the man in front of me says. All I can see of him is his grey hair.  _

_ “Me?” I ask. My voice is not my own. This voice is… more drawling, more nasal. Different. Familiar.  _

_ “Of course. Who else would I be talking to?”  _

_ I walk to the desk slowly and pull out the chair next to the man. He turns to me so I can see his face - much as I’d expected, it is wrinkled and pockmarked and old, but bright-eyed and kind all the same. “Um,” I say bluntly. “Where am I?”  _

_ “You are here,” he says simply, “and as for where ‘here’ is, I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”  _

_ “I’m not dreaming.” It isn’t a question.  _

_ “Not exactly, no, but something close. Do you know who I am?”  _

_ “I… don’t think so. Somebody has shut off my memory files - I can’t access the database of faces any longer -”  _

_ He smiles. “I’m afraid that was me. You don’t need that here, my dear boy.”  _

_ “I’m not a boy,” I say out of habit. “I’m an adjutor.”  _

_ “Is that what they’ve been telling you now, hmm?” He laughs slightly. “Well, my dear  _ adjutor, _ I suppose we have a lot to catch up on. But time is short, and time is ticking, and your friends are getting worried. I’ve left you a present for when you get back, and I’ll see you soon. And before you go…” He sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I never meant for this to happen to you.”  _

_ I blink. The world’s edges are getting darker. “Wait -” I say. “Who are you?”  _

_ He smiles again, but this time it’s sadder. “You know who I am. You know who sent you here, too. You just don’t remember.” _

_ I have so many more questions, but I can’t get them out. The black races through my mind, blocking everything out apart from two words as I fade back to consciousness:  _

_ One word is ‘Father’.  _

_ The other is ‘Mikey’.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter took so long, i was procrastinating lmao. hope u liked it <3

**Author's Note:**

> sooOOO welcome to gunmetal grey! if you read this far, thanks and i hope you like it. comments/criticism are always appreciated :)


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